


Your Memories Hold Me

by cadkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Engagement, Gun Violence, Imprisonment, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Non-Consensual, Romance, Sustaining Thoughts, Torture, True Love, Violence, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-08 20:03:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12261156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: Jason's breath hitched just the slightest amount, his fingers curling over the bar his hands were bound to. It was both frustrating and convenient that he was able to wrap his fingers around the bar. He could do absolutely nothing with it, couldn't escape it, but at least it gave him something to hold onto, to feel like he had some modicum of control.





	Your Memories Hold Me

**Author's Note:**

> #JayDickWeek - Day 4: Restraints  
> I feel obligated to warn you that Roman and Jay do _not_ have sex, but Roman does take a piss on Jason as a part of the torture scene. Jason mostly blocks it out so it's not graphic, but it is there. Fair warning. It's a whole whopping paragraph and that's it.  
>  Beta: kate1zena

Jason's breath hitched just the slightest amount, his fingers curling over the bar his hands were bound to. It was both frustrating and convenient that he was able to wrap his fingers around the bar and he could do absolutely nothing with it, couldn't escape it, but at least it gave him something to hold onto, to feel like he had some modicum of control.

Another whip of his own pistol came across his cheek and he just took it. It wasn't like he had a _choice_.

Turning his head, he spit the blood out of his mouth from the way his teeth had scraped the side of his cheek. The taste of copper railed against his senses, warred with the scent of _death_ on the air around him. Two random thugs from the group he'd been trying to pick apart from the inside lay dead on either side of him, a single neat bullet through their _pretty little brains_ – as Roman had put it.

It had been mercifully fast for his usual style and it was, perhaps, that part that worried Jason the most about his own fate. Tipping his head to the side slightly, he worked his jaw where it felt like it was going to bruise pretty spectacularly, settling his lips back into a thin line after, his gaze level with Roman's own.

"That all ya got?" He let a little sneer slide over his lips. "Did ya get it all out or maybe you need some _help_."

Roman released a snarl and while Jason knew better than to antagonize him, it was just too _easy_. Pushing Roman's buttons was like breathing air.

Roman's gloved hand slapped sharply across his cheek and Jason let himself do the only thing he knew would piss Roman off even more. He _moaned_. Letting out the shaky breath behind it, he let his hips rock forward from their nearly fixed position despite the way it pulled the bar between his legs, the way _that_ made his breath hitch for real. 

"Do it again, _darling_."

Roman's hand grabbed his jaw and pinched harder than Jason would have given him credit for being able to do and he spit out a laugh right in his face, making sure it was sloppy, filled with spit and blood.

He watched it drip down Roman's mask with some degree of satisfaction. He couldn't talk, not with that level of grip, but it was enough to know he'd gotten to him that deeply. It was enough to know his cover wasn't completely blown.

Roman slowly crouched down in front of him instead of bending over to glower at him and Jason kept their eyes locked, held his stare unblinking until his eyes felt dry and gritty, until it was _Roman_ who looked away.

Pavement scraped as Roman stood up and the click of Jason's own gun cocking settled something that had been boiling for months inside him. It wasn't that he wanted to die, wasn't that he was even reckless like another of their little brood. No, it was more that he _expected_ this, expected to one day be cut down by one of his targets. In their line of work it wasn't an _if_ , only a _when_.

Roman leveled the gun at him and Jason let the cool ease he felt inside spread across his face, lifted his head as much as he could with the bar behind his neck and shoulders and then closed his eyes. 

He took a deep breath and grasped onto what he wanted to be his very last thought. 

_Dick's fingers carded through his hair, that brilliant grin leveled on him, and then Dick leaned in, his breath a ghost of a whisper over Jason's skin. "The things I'll do for you when you come home, Jay... I'll want so much with you gone this long." Dick gave a breathy little gasp. "Maybe I'll fuck **you**."_

Jason heard the click of the trigger and he admitted to a certain amount of confusion on that particular sound. Generally if you were close enough to hear the trigger, you were already _dead_. 

Nothing happened for at least a ten count before Roman started to laugh.

"Look here, boys! He'd rather die than betray whatever bullshit _mission_ he's on."

Something wet and disgusting splashed across Jason's face, the acrid stench coming after it telling him he _didn't_ want to know what was happening now. He took a breath and he very carefully held it, keeping his lips pursed and his brain focused somewhere else completely. If he tried hard enough, he didn't even feel the dampness spreading over the front of his shirt and then his pants.

Jason held in any reaction at all to what was happening, simply slowly and shallowly breathing when he thought it was safe to do so, waiting it out as he'd been trained to do with anything torture related. _This_ he didn't antagonize Roman with, didn't bother with the pretense of liking it or anything of the nature, knowing if it had gone this far that Roman was likely to engage his goons to follow suit. 

He'd seen too many things go sideways with Roman at the helm since he'd been here to think this wouldn't tip the scales unfavorably. Perhaps, _more_ unfavorably was more accurate.

He heard the slip of fabric that meant Roman was done with his peculiar brand of torture, that meant he didn't have to endure anything more in that department. Roman's footsteps retreated and Jason forced his mind back to his lover waiting at home. His beautiful, _brilliant_ boyfriend.

_"You know what I love best about you?" Dick looked at him expectantly for all of half a second before laughing brightly, giving him no time to guess. He never did. "Everything, Jay, absolutely everything."_

The memory left Jason's hands tight around the metal bar in his hands, left his heart soaring no matter where he was right now. He could have been back in the damn pit, back in his own _grave_ and he was certain he would have still smiled over that particular memory. 

The sound of a shotgun round being chambered tugged at the outsides of Jason's senses and he felt his heart clench, felt grief and remorse for a moment as he realized he'd never see that smile again, never hear the laugh he'd _coveted_ for so many years before it had been his to hear every night. He felt the angry pull of the darker things inside him; it was only with effort that he pulled up the one last thing he could.

_Dick's eyes were distant, almost dreamy as he sighed, staring up at the sky above them. They'd both ended up on the same roof, actual happenstance rather than purposeful collision during their patrols, but they both took the moment to exist with one another. "You know, if it were legal here... I'd marry you."_

It hadn't been nearly as offhanded as it might have seemed and it had been _everything_ to Jason. The way his heart had clenched, the way he'd wanted nothing more than to hold Dick forever had left him nearly trembling inside. This man, this bright spot in the fabric of the universe was _his_ boyfriend. His... fiancé.

Jason broke then, everything snapping like a thin wire held taught for far too long. He could feel his mind dissolving, feel the edges of his darkness closing in, and he let his head hang forward, let the first shiver slip through him. This darkness – this _end_ – wouldn't hold Dick. No more love, no more light, no more _salvation_.

Roman's footsteps drew closer and closer and Jason latched onto something he once had as a child. As a brand new Robin, separated from his Bat, overwhelmed by seven men – one too many for his skills – he'd whispered one name into the darkness and he'd found himself in the cave mere seconds later, air gone from his lungs, body a bit worse for the wear, but he'd been _alive_ and that had been all that counted.

He pushed back at the darkness and let his voice break when he whispered the only words of hope he had left. "Clark... _help me_."

This time he _heard_ the gunshot, heard it so loudly he tensed for it, and then he was wrapped in arms of steel, had his face crushed against Clark's shoulder, and he had never felt relief so starkly in his entire life.

 _This_ was what he should have done when he'd died the first time. Three whispered words, fear upon his lips, and he was still breathing, still _whole_. He would have been lying if he said he was anything other than well and truly _shaken_.

He felt carpet beneath his feet and for a moment there was confusion, both of how he didn't have the damn spreader bar between his legs and with why there would be carpet in the cave and then it hit him that Clark had brought him to the one place that really _was_ home.

Clark released him and Jason realized his arms were free as well now and then – belatedly – realized he still stunk of what Roman had done to him. Grimacing, he stumbled back a few steps from Clark, screwing up his face and breathing out the quietest, "Oh God, I'm _sorry_."

Another shaky step and he sagged and Clark was there again, holding Jason flush against him and Jason almost retched at the idea of how dirty he was getting Clark. Distantly, he knew Clark was saying something, telling him something that should have been placating, built to let him know he wasn't worried about it, but Jason's head was swimming with the idea that he'd just almost _died_ and it was all he could do to clutch onto Clark and gasp out Dick's name.

He could feel Clark's indecision in the way he held him, in the seeming sway of his body, and then Jason was standing in the tub, the cold water going down the drain and a new fluffy towel on the edge of the counter closest to the tub. This time Clark's words made it part way through to him, something about a shower and then he'd get Dick for him and Jason didn't allow his lousy grip on reality to stop him from starting to shuck off his clothing, each piece of which disappeared long before it could ever hit the floor.

A new set sat folded on the toilet lid and Jason stared hazily at it for a moment, recognizing his own pants and one of Dick's hoodies. Given their clothing was in different dressers, that particular choice had been on purpose.

Shakily, he closed the curtain and turned on the sprayer, immediately picking up the mostly used bar of Dick's soap and starting to scrub it over his body, starting with his face and working downward. 

By the time he was done with his hair, he smelled entirely like Dick did fresh out of the shower, using absolutely none of his own toiletries, mostly just wanting to be wrapped up in the comfort of Dick's embrace no matter how close or far away he really was.

He shoved the curtain back to find Dick standing where he'd left Clark when he'd started showering, saw the look of complete devastation on Dick's face before it morphed into relief. 

Dick picked up the towel, unfolding it and holding it out for Jason, a slightly choked, " _Please_ ," leaving his lips as he regarded Jason like the world was ending – or perhaps as though he'd just seen his own demise. 

Jason stepped out onto the mat and let Dick enfold him in the soft blue fabric, leaned into his body with a quiet sigh and the barest tremble. Turning to push his face against Dick's shoulder, he closed his eyes and just did his best to ground himself.

Another memory surfaced, the warmth of Dick's presence leading him into it easily enough.

_Dick gasped under him, clutched at his arms as he arched up from the bed. Jason was certain he'd never seen anything more beautiful in his life than his lover stretched out under him like this. Taking everything he had to offer, moaning with pleasure as he rocked against him again and again._

With anyone else, Jason would have felt embarrassed by how quickly he'd lost it that night. It was the first time they'd been together and it had felt like he had been waiting for an eternity. Dick hadn't seemed surprised or even fazed by how fast Jason had cum, had only beamed up at him like the fact that Jason was panting over him was just peachy keen. 

Dick _always_ turned those smiles on him. Those looks that left him feeling full and warm inside, left his gut fluttering like a teenager's on their first date. 

The memory calmed him, brought him down to a more level sort of place and he turned his head to press his nose right up against Dick's neck, struggling to get his arms out of Dick's iron grip and then pull Dick even closer against him. "I'm here... I'm alive, I promise."

"You almost –" Dick's voice cracked, urgency welling up in it, "If Clark hadn't –"

" _Don't_." Jason pulled back, reached up to frame Dick's face with his own hands, studied his eyes hard. "Do _not_ do this. I'm not dead, I found my out, and you know as well as I do that in our line of work these near misses are _inevitable_. But we've chosen this for ourselves. You know that. I know that. If we worry about what could have happened, we'll be worrying ourselves to an even earlier grave, alright?" It wasn't really a question, more a single word to force Dick to stop his mind from reeling. 

Dick nodded, the sensation of holding his face while he did it grounding Jason further. 

"Good. Now we do what Bats and fucking Robins do best. We compartmentalize this shit. Deal with it... well... _never_ , but that's not the point."

Dick _almost_ laughed, though there was a watery quality to it that left Jason feeling tight in his chest. _His_ Dickie was going to cry for him. It just wouldn't do.

Stealing the towel from Dick's grip, he quickly skimmed it over his body and then straightened back up, dumping it in the hamper as he started to tug on his sweats and Dick's hoodie. He grabbed Dick's hand just as he swore he saw the first tremble of Dick's lower lip. 

"C'mon, I know exactly what I want here. I want you to be the doting boyfriend for me. I want a pizza ordered in from that place we found last week and then I want to sit on the couch and just hold you, okay? I want your warmth, your attention, and –" he paused, turning to reach out and lightly touch under Dick's chin, "your love."

There it was, that light in Dick's eyes that could have blinded a lesser man. That probably _had_ blinded a few. 

"You know I'd do anything for you, Jay. I love you more than anything."

Jason let his eyelids flutter closed for a second, held onto that moment and filed it away for the next time he needed it. 

When he opened his eyes, he held Dick's gaze for a moment, squeezed his fingers, and then whispered, "I never told you. I didn't see the point because we _can't_... but the answer will always be yes."

He watched the light swell in Dick's gaze, saw it blossom across his entire being – radiant and _alive_ – and the whispered out, "Oh _Jay_ ," was the only thing he'd ever needed to hear.

Right here, right now... _this_ was perfection.


End file.
